


5 Time Simon Tried To Work Out His Soulmate (And 1 Time He Didn't Have To)

by KalinaEverdeen



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: 5+1 Things, And they're the colour of your soulmate's eyes?, But better at writing, I found it somewhere, I'm still bad at tags, It was kinda cute, Less word vomit when writing, M/M, So you like grow wings, Soulmate AU, Watford, Wings, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalinaEverdeen/pseuds/KalinaEverdeen
Summary: Everyone grows wings. Everyone's wings have a pair of eyes that match them. But Simon's never been one to wait around for his wings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I a story with this au and I really liked it and thought I'd use it.  
> Because I'm still a sucker for soulmate aus.

1- Age 6

"Simon's got a crush!"

I flinch back from the squeal. It's an older girl, she's maybe 9, at the most. And she's shouting. Loud.

"Simon likes Jane!"

I shrink back from the girl, my face red. She's too loud.

"Look, he's gone all red!"

I want her to shut up. Her voice is too high.

"Jane, Simon likes you!"

_Shut up._

"Ew, gross! Simon's a weirdo!"

"Simon thinks that Jane's his soulmate!"

"Simon loves Jane!"

"Simon!"

And then silence. Everything falls quiet.

I curl up in my spot on the floor at everyone's mouths form soundless words.

I screw my eyes shut to block out their silent screams.

I feel like everything's on fire.

\---

2- Age 11

When the Mage explained the Crucible to me I couldn't help but feel excited and nauseous all at once. Something that pits two people together. Surely, _surely_ there's a chance that I could be paired with my soulmate.

I mean, I've been told before that not all soulmates are romantic. Many are just the best of friends, closer than siblings. And that's not too different from the Crucible, right?

My brain's a flurry of disarrayed thoughts as the iron melts and students that I don't know start being pulled towards each other.

Panic grips me suddenly.

_What if it doesn't work? You know that you're a fraud, and soon the Mage will know too. You'll be sent straight back into another home._

And then I feel it. A yanking on my core that almost sends me int the ground with the force of it. I stumble my way forwards. And then I see him.

Too white skin. Too black hair. Too grey eyes.

He's flawless.

Before he's even reached me, my hand is stuck out but he just looks at it. Sneers at it. Doesn't take it. My stomach is on fire.

"Snow." He says, and his voice is smooth, too smooth for someone our age.

"Yeah, here." I shake my hand a bit to emphasise that he's meant to shake it.

I don't understand how he's resisting the pull. It's killing me.

"The Mage's Heir."

I nod, because the title's new and sounds distinctly wrong when used to talk about me. And also because I'm focusing too much on not throwing up.

It feels like years before he finally, _finally_ grips my hand. I can't help but sag with relief as my innards stop trying to eject themselves from my body.

I decide to try and talk to him- he's going to be my roommate after all- and lick my lips, "Hi, I'm-"

"I know who you are." He says coolly, dropping my hand and walking away.

I watch him go, my hand still held out stupidly in front of me.

_So much for the soulmate idea... And the friend idea..._

\---

3- Age 12

"Hey Penny?" I start one day. We're laying on our backs on the lawn, the sun barely keeping us warm enough to be able to stand the breeze.

She rolls onto her side and look at me through her pointed glasses, her blue hair falling across her face, "Yeah Simon?"

"Do you ever... Think that we might be soulmates?" I ask tentatively. People have never liked when I questioned them about soulmates. Apparently it's really personal.

She snorts slightly, "Well, we're definitely not romantic soulmates." But then she thinks for a moment, pushing her glasses up her nose, "I don't know, Simon. I don't really think about it all that much."

"How?" I ask all too quickly.

"I don't really see the point in worrying about it until I get the wings, you know? I don't want to set my hopes on it being someone only for my wings to be completely different to their eyes."

I nod, but I still don't get it. How can you just not think about it. There's someone out there who's soul is linked to yours. How can you just push that out of your mind?

Penny nudges me, bring my thoughts back around to her. She smiles at me, squinting at the light, "It doesn't matter if we aren't soulmates though. You're still going to be stuck with me for life."

I can't help the grin that fights it's way onto my face.

\---

4- Age 14

I wake up to a loud bang and I'm on my feet, summoning the Sword of Mages before I'm even fully conscious. I blink my eyes, struggling to see in the pitch black of our room. There's a blur of movement and I pull my sword up, ready to swing.

"Dear Morgana, get out the bloody way Snow!" Baz hisses and I'm confused as he shoves past me.

I'm more confused when something else whacks me on the way past and the bathroom door is slammed shut. I look around the room in a muddle, trying to piece together what happened.

"Baz? Baz, what the hell are you doing?" I call to him.

"Shut up." He says but something about his voice is off.

I knock on the door, "Baz, what's going on?"

"Go away! Get the fuck away!" He sounds breathless. Like he just ran a mile.

He also sounds like he's crying.

"Baz, are you crying?"

"Fuck off!" His words are filled with desperation. I wonder why he hasn't spelled me away when I realise that his wand is beside his bed.

I have half a mind to barge down the door when I notice it on the floor.

A feather.

I pick it up carefully and walk over to the window, letting the moonlight illuminate it. It's blue. Apparently feathers never look the same once they've fallen out, they become less alive, but I can still see that it's blue.

I look back at the bathroom door.

Not many people in our year have gotten their wings yet. Baz must be one of the first.

I hold the feather carefully, like it might fall apart between my fingers. I hesitate only for a moment before placing it on Baz's bedside table and crawling back into my own bed.

Despite the fact that Baz is possibly crying in the bathroom, I can't help but feel a sprig of excitement. My wings could be coming soon. Sure, it could still be years but the fact that Baz's have emerged makes me feel like mine can't be too far behind.

It won't be long now.

\---

5- Age 15

When Agatha's wings sprouted a clear blue colour, she asked to date me after only a few days. And, with her flowing blonde hair and golden eyes, I was hardly going to say no.

Everyone agreed that her feathers matched my eyes and we soon became the golden pair.

Or at least we did to most people.

Penny will have none of the fairytale shit that most of the school pins on us. I'm not sure if it's because she doesn't give a crap about that sort of thing or because she doesn't believe that me and Agatha are soulmates.

She didn't mean to let it slip in all fairness. We were eating lunch one day, pretty soon after me and Agatha got together and she just kind of mumbled, "Well they're a bit _light_."

I don't think Agatha heard but I did (even if it did take me a few days to figure out that she was talking about Agatha's wings).

And of course, there's Baz.

When he found out, at first all he gave was a derisive snort with a glare tossed in for good measure.

But, the longer we've dated, the more his reactions have edged towards the aggressive side.

He spends most of his time trying to convince me that we don't match. Not directly, but always hinting.

I'll mention Agatha-

"You're exceedingly thick, Snow."

I talk about her wings-

"Have you even looked in the mirror, Snow?"

I mention the clear weather-

"Isn't it a little _light_ for you?"

It always irks me but I can never retaliate. The words stick in my throat and I can't make them into a coherent sentence. Which of course only give Baz more ammunition.

Maybe there's a reason I can't fight back.

Maybe it's because of the truth behind his words that I struggle to ignore.

Maybe I should just punch him next time.

\---

+1- Age 16

When I wake up, it's still dark.

Except that's not right. It's dark but not fully. And there's a tug against my back. It feels like there's a knot in my back and, almost without thinking, I sit up and unfurl it.

The darkness pulls away with a rustle of feathers and I feel my heart thumping in my chest as I watch my wings shift from being curled around me to being spread behind me.

I sit for only a moment before leaping out of bed and into the bathroom, shoving the door closed with more force than necessary. I probably woke Baz up. Good, he woke me up with his wings back in third year, he deserves to be disturbed by mine.

I pause just for a moment before stepping in front of the mirror. I've waited my whole life for this, I need just one deep breath before I see them properly.

I lift my head and look at my reflection. And I freeze.

My shirt is half hanging off me, ripped by the sprouting of my wings. My face is flushed with excitement but draining of colour by the second.

Behind me span a beautiful pair of wings.

A beautiful pair or _grey_ wings.

But that's not right. They should be golden brown. Should contain the sun, not the moon.

They should match Agatha's eyes.

Not Baz's.

I try to breath, to think rationally.

I need Penny, she'd know what to do.

But I can't get to her, not without parading through the whole school. I didn't think to buy anything to strap my wings down with. I didn't think that I'd need to hide them.

I can't tear my eyes away from them. They're so beautiful and so _wrong_.

The sunlight peeking in through the window reflects off them and in places they almost seem to shine with hints of greens and blues. They're stunning.

_Of course they're stunning. They're Baz's. What part of him isn't flawless?_

I look at the closed bathroom door. Baz'll be waking up soon.

I've never seen Baz's wings.

The closest was the feather I found when they first emerged. Since then, he's kept them strapped to his back.

It's meant to be really painful for long periods of time.

He doesn't even take them out to sleep.

A bang on the door makes me nearly jump out of my skin, my wings flaring out.

"Snow, why the hell are you still here?" He sounds pissed. I'm usually out the door before he's even up.

"I-" I try to reply but my voice jams with a sob.

_Oh no._

"Crowley, are you crying in there, Snow? Because I really don't have time to wait for you to finish blubbering." He sounds bored but there's still a heavy layer of frustration in his tone.

I clasp my hands over my mouth in a futile attempt to mask the sounds of my despair.

He groans, "Right, I'm going to spell the door open so you better have some damn clothes on in there."

I back into the corner, my wings furling behind me as I hear Baz mutter a spell, the lock clicking.

I will him not to come in.

The door opens.

Baz waltzes in, his nose wrinkling, "Calm the hell down Snow, before you set the place on fire."

His gaze sweeps the room and lands on me, his eyes cold for maybe a second.

And then he sees.

It would almost be comical if it didn't feel like my world was unravelling. His face goes slack, his eyes blow wide, and his composure slips away.

I look up at him, watching as his mouth traces the outline of words.

"Show me your wings." My voice is barely even a whisper, cracking and filled with emotion.

His eyes go hard, as if he's about to argue. And then they drop, the fight leaving him in a way I've never seen before. He lifts his gaze again to look at me as he slowly lifts his shirt off. He points his wand at his back and says a spell- of course he spells his wings back, why the hell would he trouble himself with straps?- and they unfurl.

They're blue. I knew that already but seeing them spread fully is different to seeing a lone feather in the moonlight. They're darker than Agatha's- only by a shade or two but they're still darker. They're nothing remarkable about them. They're not like the ocean, not like the sky. They're just blue.

They're just like my eyes.

"You've known?" I whisper, unable to look away from them, "You've known all this time?"

He laughs but it's not light and free. It's jarring. "I knew before. These just confirmed that I was fucked."

"Why-"

"I don't know _why_ Snow. Don't you think that I've been asking why since day 1?"

I want him to shut up.

"It's not like my life wasn't fucked up enough as it was. No, this shit had to be the icing on the damn cake."

I want him to stop talking. He's talking too much.

"So yeah, I know know why this fucking happened but I-"

I lunge forwards and kiss him.

I didn't do it consciously. I just wanted him to shut up.

Everything falls quiet as I close my eyes, feeling the way he falls apart.

I pull away after what could have been hours. His eyes stay closed just a second longer than mine. His face is lax, void of the usual hard crafted lines.

I lift a hand to his face, needing to touch the soft feature before they harden again. For once, Baz is the one without any words.

"I don't know why." I breath. Our faces are still close, our breaths mingling, "But I'm glad."

This time, he kisses me.

I feel like everything's on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this wasn't great but I couldn't stop thinking about this idea so I had to write it  
> I hope you enjoyed it  
> Also, sorry if the writing style changed a bit throughout? Like, idk, felt like it did  
> Thanks for reading, please tell me if you spot any mistakes (too lazy to beta, whoops)  
> Have a nice day/night


End file.
